


Three Times

by Sidders



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:50:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidders/pseuds/Sidders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Tumblr prompt: 3 times Bobbi picks Jemma up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Times

**1.**

Jemma likes Mack. She does! He’s been nice enough to her, and he’s so good for Fitz, helping around the lab during her... absence, not to mention being a genuine friend to him.

But it’s the lab part that she’s starting to have an issue with. It’s not that he’s bad at anything - quite the opposite. It’s just that he’s so - well - tall. Ridiculously so, really. And he happened to be the one to help Fitz put everything away. On shelves and in cupboards. High up.

Which is how Jemma finds herself balancing on her toes, grabbing uselessly at the test tubes on the shelf that, even when stretching as far as she can, is still a few inches from her fingers.

Maybe if she just leans up on the counter a little more she can - “Need a hand?” - miss completely.

“Agent Morse!” Jemma beams, any frustration she felt now at a minimal level.

“Bobbi,” she’s reminded.

“Bobbi,” Jemma nods. “And, well - normally I’d be fine, but,” she eyes the shelf above and frowns. “I can’t quite…”

Before she can say ‘reach’, Bobbi has marched across the room to stand by her side, and has an amused glint in her eye. “Ready?” She asks. Jemma nods, although she’s not quite sure what she’s supposed to be ready _for_ , and it takes every bit of willpower she has not to scream when Bobbi’s arms wrap around her waist from behind and lift her up.

She does manage to grab the test tubes, though, which she’s quite proud of.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just, I don’t know, grab them for me?” Jemma asks once she’s safely back on the ground.

Bobbi grins at her. “Easier? Yes. Fun? No.”

**2.**

She needs to learn to defend herself. At least, that’s what Coulson told her two days ago. Jemma thought she might have gotten some basic training from May, or even Tripp. May was deemed a little too intense (an understatement, Jemma thought), and Tripp had declined himself after Skye had compared the situation to teaching a puppy to fight.

Enter Bobbi Morse.

After the Hydra incident, Bobbi thought a few self defense classes were a great idea (“What if I hadn’t been on your side?” She’d asked. _I’d be in several thousand tiny pieces_ , Jemma had thought), and she was more than willing to help out.

Except Jemma is quite unfit, used to flitting around a small lab instead of running up and down a flight of stairs for what felt like hours and punching bags that honestly have no right to hit back.

Everything aches after their first lesson. Jemma would say that muscles she didn’t know she had ached, if that wasn’t completely untrue. Knowing what each part of her body is and exactly why it aches doesn’t help in the slightest, strangely enough.

She hides the pain she’s in as best as she can, only wincing slightly each time she moves. But Bobbi is observant, and most would have heard Jemma’s gasp as she tried to open the door to their makeshift training room anyway.

“You alright?” Bobbi asks, by her side in an instant. Her eyes are full of concern and Jemma tries to nod, wanting to reassure her, but all that does is pull at the muscles in her neck and make her grimace.

“I’m fine. Just having a little trouble, well… moving.”

Bobbi nods, takes a moment to eye Jemma from head to toe, and eventually reaches out for the younger woman’s hand. “This is going to hurt, but I want you to put your arm around the back of my neck. Okay?”

Jemma takes a deep breath before doing as instructed. And it does hurt, quite a bit actually, the muscles in her left shoulder practically screaming at her to stop. But before she can focus on it too much there is an arm wrapping around her lower back, and suddenly her feet are no longer on the floor.

The squeal she lets out is more than a little embarrassing.

And everything still hurts. Until Bobbi re-adjusts her grip so that she isn’t putting too much pressure on any specific parts of Jemma’s back, and Jemma sighs in relief. Then what’s happening actually catches up with her.

“You aren’t planning to…?” But she is, because then Bobbi is carrying her through the (blissfully empty) halls. All Jemma can do is bury her face in the woman’s neck until it’s over to hide her now bright pink cheeks.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says. Bobbi carried her all the way to their sleeping quarters, gently placing Jemma on her bed with minimal pain involved (unless the sheer mortification of Skye seeing them counts).

“It was the least I could do,” Bobbi gives her a sympathetic smile. “I worked you too hard.”

“It’s not your fault that I’m completely incapable of doing anything too physical,” Jemma scoffs, and Bobbi grabs her hand, giving it a squeeze.

“You’ll get there. And besides,” she lets go and winks before moving towards the door, “you’re practically half my size. Makes you easy to carry.”

Jemma laughs as Bobbi leaves, and for once doesn’t mind that she’s rather short compared to some of her fellow agents.

3.

As far as first kisses go, it could have been a little more graceful. The difference in their height makes it clumsy, Jemma leaning up too far and Bobbi bending too low so that their noses bump and their lips press together with more force than either woman intended.

“I’m sorry,” Jemma says when they part, her neck stiff from straining it for too long. “This was a lot better when I pictured it and-”

She stops when Bobbi grins, realising what she just admitted.

“You’ve pictured this?”

“Maybe once or twice,” she admits sheepishly. Bobbi chuckles, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead, then smirks.

“Put your arms around my neck,” Bobbi tells her. Jemma complies as best she can and instantly feels Bobbi’s hands grip each of her thighs. “Hold on.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, her hold on the woman’s neck tightening slightly just as Bobbi’s hands tug until Jemma’s feet aren’t touching the floor.

Bobbi grins at her, their eyes now level, and Jemma’s legs wrap instinctively around her waist. “That’s better,” is all she says, and then they’re kissing, properly this time.

And it’s a little terrifying because Jemma can’t help but feel like she’s going to fall any second, but she honestly doesn’t mind, because it is much, much better.

 


End file.
